29. Quinn
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
quinn
My nose twitches.
Something sweet and floral tickles my nostrils.
The birds are chirping happily outside.
The bed dips, and something spicy joins the floral scent.
Graham .
I crack an eye open to find him looking down at me with fondness. Streaks of sunshine sneak in through the curtains.
“ Hi , honey.” His smile has quickly become my favorite thing to wake up to, and today is no different.
“ Hey , you. What time is it?” I stifle a yawn and stretch out my stiff arms.
“ Don’t worry about that.” He lies down next to me, reaches behind his back with a rustling to reveal the biggest bouquet of flowers and lays them down between us. All different shapes and shades of yellow. Tulips , roses, daisies, dahlias. Unlike the previous arrangements, this one is wrapped up in brown Kraft paper and tied with string.
“ Graham . They’re incredible. Did you make this?”
“ Nah . This is all my mom. I did help pick them out.” He huffs a laugh, but there’s a hint of pride in his smile .
“ This one is my favorite so far. You don’t have to buy me flowers so often though.” Turning over, I fluff my pillows and settle against the headboard. Last night we slept in his room. We’ve been alternating between his and mine, and it’s been the best two weeks of bed hopping. Almost every night I’m left satiated from Graham’s hands, mouth, or cock. We’re both insatiable and I hope it never fades.
Since I’ve been sleeping in here, there are a few new additions to his room: a sandalwood candle sits on the dresser along with a ceramic watch holder I found at the thrift store. He brought in my lavender-colored blanket last night after I complained it was too cold, but he quickly warmed me up.
“ I don’t have to. I want to.” There’s a dash of nervousness in his tone. He leans over the flowers, careful not to crush them as he lays gentle kisses across my brow, nose, and cheeks. “ Happy birthday, honey.”
I smile despite the dull ache of memories that try to force their way out. Deep from where I try to hide them away on this day.
Twenty -seven.
Nine years since I left the one place that should have kept me safe, yet the moment I lost sight of our trailer it was the safest I’d ever felt.
“ I know you didn’t want a fuss…”
“ It wasn’t that. Birthdays were never a thing for me, so I preferred to celebrate today as the day I set myself free.” I stroke a hand down his bare chest. “ I love the flowers. And without making this depressing, you’re the first person in a long time to wish me a happy birthday.”
The deep breath he lets out is filled with sadness, but he doesn’t dwell on it.
“ So you want a fuss?” He quirks a dark brow.
“ I want to spend the morning in bed with you before we head over to your mom’s. That sounds like my perfect birthday.”
“ Can I give you your gift?”
My eyes widen and I glance down at the bouquet. “ You already have.”
“ I’m going to bring you flowers every day, even though our contract is null and void.” He winks, and then reaches under the bed to retrieve a small gift wrapped in blue paper with green polka dots, and places it on my lap.“ It’s nothing big or fancy.”
Giddy excitement quickly replaces my morose mood. I peel back the gift wrap to reveal a small rectangular, wooden box. Intricate floral designs decorate the top and a bronze latch keeps the lid in place. Right in the middle, in beautiful cursive writing is my name. It’s simple and delicate, clearly made with a lot of care and craftsmanship.
Inspecting it, I turn it over, and the sound of something sliding around inside has me glancing at Graham , who simply shrugs.
With a quick flick of the latch, I open the lid to reveal a small silver locket, engraved with three simple stems of what look to be tulips.
“ Oh , Graham , it’s beautiful. I love it. And the box.”
“ Really ?” he asks hopefully.
“ Of course. Where did you find it?”
“ Dex made the jewelry box, and the necklace is from a small jeweler across from my office in the city. I had them engrave the flowers.”
He’s not even finished his sentence before I’m dragging him down to me and raining his face with quick pecks until our lips lock in a deep kiss. He laughs when I grip him harder as he tries to pull away.
“ Let me put it in on you.” He maneuvers me until I’m sitting between his open legs, front to back .
With my hair swept over my shoulder, I wait, but he doesn’t move. I twist to find him staring at my naked body and watch as he leans forward to kiss up the length of my spine. My limbs melt into his embrace with each tender press of his lips.
“ My beautiful Quinn ,” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses until he reaches my nape. “ Brave and beautiful. You deserve to be celebrated every day, but today of all days, you deserve to know what joy and happiness you bring into lives of the people around you.”
Happy tears well in my eyes at his heartfelt words and then he’s looping the silver locket around my neckand securing it in place. It takes him a few minutes because of his big hands, and I tease him every second. My mood shifts when it rests between the hollow of my breasts.
Gratitude . So much gratitude for the man who encompasses me in his arms as I fall into him. For everything he’s done for me, but most of all, for being who I never knew I needed.
I turn to kiss the underside of his jaw. “ Thank you. Already I have the perfect morning to replace the old memories.”
When he leaves to place the flowers in water—because obviously I’m not allowed to do it—and to fetch us breakfast, my fingers trace along the cool metal. I fiddle with the tiny latch on the side of the locket and when it springs open, I’m left slightly disappointed that he didn’t put a picture in there.
It’s a stupid thought, one I quickly shake away. I’d just hoped that I’d find him in there to rest against the heart he’s very quickly taking ownership of.
All the scents and aromas floating around Claire’s kitchen are making my mouth water.
My nose is having a mini orgasm.
Not nearly as good as the two real ones Graham gave me this morning after we finished breakfast. One while I sat on his face and the second when we showered together.
Happy birthday to me.
I haven’t seen Booth in action before, only tasted what he’s concocted when visiting Our Place . Without a shadow of a doubt he’s a talented, skillful chef. I’ve worked alongside plenty of head chefs, and they always have pent-up anger or an air of arrogance to them. Not Booth . He commands the kitchen with grace and respect. And cooks up a hell of a storm without even breaking a sweat.
I’m in charge of the pies, cranberry sauce, sweet potato casserole, and creamed corn; he oversees the turkey, stuffing, and gravy. Everything else we’ve split. The pumpkin pie I made at the bakery yesterday is chilling in the fridge and the crust baking in the oven should be done in ten minutes before I fill it with a maple pecan filling. We make quite the team, blasting Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran as we work in tandem. Baking is obviously my forte but it’s fun cooking with him.
Poor Claire is still in a thigh-high cast and her wrist is still a little tender. Booth , being the overprotective youngest son, forbids her from lifting a finger, which she’s finding difficult.
We both let out an exhausted sigh when we finish cleaning the work surfaces and the remaining dishes are in the oven or simmering over the stove.
“ If I wasn’t so obsessed with buying your banana bread every week, I’d try and convince you to come work for me.” Booth unties his apron and holds his hand out for mine.
“ Working in big kitchens isn’t my thing.” My mind wanders back to Graham’s speech at Our Place before Jenna interrupted us. He hasn’t brought it up since, but his words have stuck with me. Getting help isn’t cheating, it’s a stepping-stone . If I continue allowing my stubborn pride to get in the way, the bakery won’t progress to where I want it to. “ But , if you’re ever in need of bread or muffins for the restaurant, let me know.”
There . I said it. That wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.
“ Wait , seriously?” Booth pulls us to stop on our way to the living room. “ Our supplier is one my dad used for years, but recently the bread gets delivered to us half stale or with part of the order missing.”
My mouth drops open, because this I was not expecting.
“ If you’re serious, I’d love to sit down with you. Usually I’d get Graham involved when working with a new vendor, but he knows you and, you know…conflict of interest.” He smirks. “ Before we both get too busy this winter, let’s set up a meeting.”
“ Do you not need to speak to the new owner?” I think back to Jo’s comment last month.
“ Nah . They may think they own the restaurant, but considering they haven’t stepped foot in there, I don’t think they’ll notice a change of vendor.”
“ Okay .” I bite back a grin, trying and failing to play it cool.“ That sounds good.”
“ Great . Now , beer? We’ve earned one.”
We head into the living room and my eyes are immediately drawn to the man dressed in a deep maroon sweater and corduroy pants. The Sadlers get dressed up for Thanksgiving , so I threw on my nicest knitted dress and the knee-high boots Graham goes crazy for.
I saunter over to where he sits on the love seat in the corner. He raises his arm, and I revel in the way I fit so perfectly into his side as he presses his face into my hair and inhales.
“ You smell delicious.”
“ I smell like garlic and sweat.” I laugh as he grabs my legs and drapes them over his thighs.
“ You two are disgustingly cute,” Booth remarks with a sigh before taking a pull from his beer.
“ Be nice to your brother.” Claire slaps him in the chest and looks at us with heart eyes. “ It means so much that you’re helping with the dinner, today of all days.”
“ It’s my pleasure.” I mean it. I thought it would be a good distraction for what is usually a very polarizing day. Turns out, all I needed was the man next to me.
If this is the first and last birthday I ever celebrate, I’d still be the luckiest girl alive.
“ The table looks amazing,” I tell her.
When we arrived, Jo was helping Claire set up. Crocheted pumpkins, dried leaves, branches, and tiny wooden turkeys decorate the long dining table.
“ Thank you, sweetheart. Florence usually helps me. This is the first year she won’t be here to celebrate.”
“ That reminds me. We need an extra place setting. I’ve invited a friend,” Booth adds casually as he types away on his phone.
“ A lady friend?” Claire asks excitedly and squeezes Booth’s bicep in a death grip. Poor woman is desperate to see her kids married off and popping out more grandkids.
“ Fuck , Ma . I can’t feel my arm.” He removes himself from her grasp. “ And no, not a lady friend . Just a guy from work who couldn’t be with his family this year. Hope that’s okay.”
“ Of course, it is. The more the merrier.”
Just then, Patrick , Jo , and Lottie join us with Johanna’s dad, George . It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside as we sit together in the living room waiting for the food, laughter and love filling the room. When I turn to look at the man next to me, that warm, fuzzy feeling ignites into an inferno.
I take him in as he chats away with everyone. It’s here that he has all his walls down, fully relaxed, with no doubt to be seen. It makes me sad to know he struggled as a child and during his relationship with Jenna , but knowing he had family and friends like this through it all, brings me comfort.
“ It’s going to be a busy few days,” Claire says. “ It’ll be nice to see some of the family on Sunday .”
The room grows quiet and Graham’s jaw ticks. We’ve avoided talking about the wedding that’s happening in three days. Ignorance has certainly been bliss.
“ It’ll be good to see Aunt Nancy and Uncle Eric ,” Patrick replies, but I don’t miss the tension in his shoulders.
“ It will.” Claire’s eyes grow sad as she takes in the wall decorated with family photos. “ Your dad loved weddings. Couldn’t get him off the dance floor.”
As much as I hate the idea of being in the same room as Graham’s ex again, I respect his wish to keep his mom out of the drama surrounding his past relationship. But I have a feeling if Claire knew the truth, she wouldn’t be going to the wedding.
Jo plops down onto the floor next to me just as Graham excuses himself from the room. I fight the urge to follow and check on him, wanting to give him his space.
“ You’ve got that look.” Jo nudges my knee with her shoulder.
“ What look?”
“ Like you’ve fallen in deep with a Sadler brother.”
She’s absolutely right, so why deny it? Plus , the huge grin on my face is a dead giveaway.
“ So deep it’s scary, but it feels so right with him. Sometimes I wonder if I’m dreaming.”
Before she can respond, the lights dim, and Jo’s eyes widen. She curls her lips around her teeth and shakes her head. “ If you look behind you, you’ll see that you’re wide awake.”
I whip around to find Graham in the doorway with a warm glow highlighting the contours of his face. I’m so distracted by him that I almost miss the large—slightly lopsided—yellow cake in his hands, with what looks like a hundred candles haphazardly sticking out of it.
With careful steps, and Lottie walking alongside him with the cheesiest smile on her face, a chorus of voices starts singing. Singing to me. The love hits me from all angles, but my eyes don’t leave his as he makes his way over and crouches in front of me.
“ Gots to make a wish, Aunty Quinn ,” Lottie whispers excitedly, and my heart threatens to burst at the seams at that name.
The candlelight makes the green of his eyes appear rapturous. “ Happy birthday, honey.”
With a shaky voice, I close my hand around his wrist as I say, “ You keep giving me all these firsts.”
His smile takes over his entire face. “ What a lucky guy I am. Now blow out your candles, this thing weighs a ton.”
After the candles are extinguished, I make a wish even though it’s already come true.
He’s looking right at me.
“ Do you like your cake?” Lottie’s question reminds me we’re not the only two people in the room.
“ I love it so much.” I wipe under my eyes. “ You did a great job.”
“ I didn’t make it, silly. Uncle Gray did. It took him four tries.” She giggles and lays her head on her uncle’s shoulder. “ He said it had to be perfect for you.”
I smirk as Graham’s cheeks flame. “ Lottie , you’re the worst wingwoman.”
“ Like chicken wings?” she asks in confusion.
The room breaks into laughter, and someone flicks on the lights right as the doorbell rings.
Booth shoots up from his seat and runs out of the room shouting, “ I’ve got it!”
I stand with Graham , who carries the cake over to the side table. “ You really made it?”
“ Yeah .” He chuckles and rolls up his sleeves to show me a fresh burn mark. “ Got the scars to prove it.”
“ Ouch !” I grab his arm and gently kiss the red welt on his skin. “ What did I do to deserve you?”
“ It’s just a cake,” he mumbles, but I don’t let him downplay this and keep a firm grip on his arm.
“ It’s so much more than that. You have no idea what it means to me. You’ve made the lonely little girl inside me feel very special today.”
“ All of your days should be special.” His brow stays wrinkled, but before I can say anymore, a high-pitched voice has us all jumping.
“ The prodigal child has returned!”
Claire screams and points at a tall, slim woman, with a white-blonde bob and septum piercing. She’s stunning and the green eyes she reveals when she flips up her sunglasses tell me exactly who she is.
“ Aunty Flo !” Lottie squeals and sprints into her aunt’s waiting arms.
“ We’ve talked about that name, Lottie .” Florence laughs and scoops the little girl up.
Everyone follows to hug and greet her.
I stay behind, not wanting to intrude on the family reunion. There’s no jealousy as I take in the loud, loving family, and I’m happy to watch until Florence locks eyes with me and spreads her arms wide with a toothy grin.
“ And you must be the woman who showed Graham Cracker not all women are awful wenches.” In the blink of an eye, I’m locked in her embrace until I’m gasping for air. “ But know if you hurt him, I’ll make your life hell,” she whispers menacingly.
I like her.
“ Flo ,” Graham warns and peels her arms from around me. “ You’re ruining the stereotype of protective older brother.”
“ Times are changing. Quinn , you’ll sit next to me. I can’t wait to tell you all the embarrassing stories about my big brother.”
Booth and I shuffle back into the kitchen to plate everything up and for the next couple of hours, we all sit around the table, eating until our stomachs hurt, playing games, and giving thanks.
It’s so easy. All of it. Most of all, it’s easy with him.
Easy to open up to him, spend time with him, be around his family, and be a part of his life.
And to love him.
My heart stutters at that. Every rational thought tells me it’s too early to have these feelings, but when he throws an arm around my shoulder and kisses my cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world, they disappear.
I’ve never loved anyone, let alone had someone tell me they love me.
He’s given me so much. My first bouquet of flowers. My first pair of rain boots. My first birthday cake.
My first love.